Killing Faith
by Renana Aurora Nova
Summary: When the Council starts to lose funding after it's discovered they no longer have control over the Slayer, they decide to capture and experiment on Buffy and Faith in order to have more Slayers called to service.


Renana Unger Hannahs

CHAPTER ONE

The room is stark. White walls frame a square gray table surrounded by eight straight black chairs. Three chairs host renowned members of the Watcher's council.

Seated with his back to the door, a gowned man with skin the color and shine of a ripe black cherry speaks into the silence. "Word has gotten out that the Slayer no longer works for the Council. We're all losing our funding."

A Virginian accent drawls from Mr. Acre's pale lips – "Yeah, soon we'll have to get real jobs."

Distaste rippling across his face, Mr. Zubu stands, leaning his considerable mass forward. "What happens to the next Slayer if no one is there to help her? If we lose our funding," (he points an emphatic finger), "we lose our power to keep the world safe."

Mr. Edgar, with his crisp British accent, straightens his spin as the thought hits, "The next Slayer," (pauses, looks at his compatriots), "what a shame that the world doesn't have more Slayers."

Zubu reminds quietly, "There's always only ever been one." concedes, gesturing, "Until now." He seats himself; chin high with knowledge of centuries of proud, world-saving tradition. "That's always been enough."

Edgar, "Yes, until now." A pregnant silence ensues. "There's always been a Chosen One." He locks a meaningful gaze. "Now there's a Chosen Two." Why not a Chosen Four or Eight? Slayers enough for every Watcher."

Fear and confusion thicken Mr. Zubu's voice, "What are you saying?"

Acre's brows raise with intrigued understanding. A half smile teases his face as he explains, "It's obvious. He's talking about pulling a _Flatliners_ on the Slayer."

Mr. Zubu's voice booms out with utter conviction, "The council will never, ever approve the killing of the Slayer."

Mr. Edgar queries, "Not even for mere seconds?"

Acre laughs, "Yeah, we'd only kill her a little."

Edgar interrupts, shooting a glare at Acre, "With more Slayers, we could rid the world of demons far more quickly. Maybe even permanently."

"There's still us humans," Acre self-deprecates without remorse.

"Who are far easier to kill," Mr. Edgar points out.

Acre acknowledges, "Well, there is that."

Edgar peers at his tablemates in turn, "Are you with me on this?"

Zubu, aghast, blurts, "Emphatically not!" He shakes his head with disbelief. "You have no comprehension of the forces you are playing God with. Only evil can come of such a deed."

Acre waits for the Zubu to finish, then shrugs. "You know me. I'm morally adjunct," he gestures sideways with a hand, smiling cockily, "I'd like to try it just to see what happens."

Edgar ignores the outrage on Zubu's face, saying "With you seconding me I can bring a motion before the council." He smiles with satisfaction.

*

The gang sneaks into Giles' living room, splaying themselves in various sprawls of complete ownership over his couch. Giles looks in vain for a place to sit. The others are, of course, oblivious to his seatlessness.

Buffy comments to Giles, between popcorn munchings, "You know, I could swear that a vampire I staked last night didn't have any teeth. Don't they always come with teeth?"

Xander nods wisely, saying, "Like a straw comes with your milkshake so you can suck up that creamy goodness?"

Buffy face goes 'ew', "That's not where I was going with this, but thanks for that trip to Xanderland."

Xander, Buffy, Anya and Willow look at Giles, awaiting his wisdom.

Giles says, "Yes, records show that even if their human countenance is missing teeth, its demon visage…" interrupts himself, "it did have on its eating face?"

Buffy nods, "Bumpy forehead, yellow eyes, both present and accounted for."

Mentally dismissing the human face explanation, Giles continues "Hmm, they _do_ always have teeth. It's part of their demonic transformation."

Xander pipes up, "Maybe he shed his baby teeth and was growing new ones."

Anya opinionates, "Or maybe he's being punished."

Giles cocks his head with interest, "Of course. A curse or a spell. Retribution for some evil deed."

Buffy, waggling a disgusted head, "Why don't these people seeking vengeance just kill 'em?"

Xander says, "They have too much time on their hands?" He starts to dance to mental music.

Anya purses her lips, "Death is easy. Vengeance is an art."

Xander stops dancing and looks panicked, muttering, "Please, somebody change the subject, quick."

Giles responds dryly to Anya's comment, "I'll take that into account." Looking at Buffy, "I'll see what I can find out."

*

A near-barren room hosts Acre and Edgar. The Brit leans casually back in his chair.

Edgar gives a small smile, "I just got the results of the vote. The council has agreed to experiment with killing the Slayers."

Acre nods, unsurprised, "Which Slayer plays the guinea pig?"

"They have teams going off after both. With any luck, we'll have at least one for our little party. Maybe we'll have two for tea."

Acre allows, "And we'll have tea for two. Or a nice sedating brew of some kind, anyway."

*

The sniper waits while Faith works a weight machine. He can't get a good shot with her horizontal and liable to move the machine in front of his shot at any moment. Lead bullets are his ammo of choice. Fast, easy to time over a long distance. But tranquilizer darts are slow, painfully slow. Guess they had to be or they'd blast a hole through their victim. But that meant he must be very sure that the target was going to be in one spot for awhile. Having Faith spot a misfired dart would be worse than never getting a shot off.

Eventually, Faith sits up, walking over to stand in line for the water fountain. Perfect. The sniper squeezes the trigger.

Faith sees something flash out of the corner of her eye. Her hand whips up to catch the dart.

"Damn," the sniper whispers in admiration.

The dart manages to pierce just underneath the callous in Faith's thumb. A drop of blood wells up. The sedative in the dart was originally designed to take down an elephant, then modified to work on Slayers. The tiny drop is enough.

Faith feels the black hands of sleep reaching up to overwhelm the adrenalin flooding her veins. The adrenalin loses the battle. Hormones down.

Faith mumbles, "Son of a bi …" as the ground claims her.

Tear gas and smoke bombs flood the compound, dropping Faiths' fellow inmates to the ground.

Men burst out from a van and run to the fence. Cutting a hole in less than a minute, they run in and bind Faith tightly before carrying her outside and tumbling her limp body into the van. They jump in the van and it screeches away.

The sniper gripes, "Everybody forgets the sniper," as he watches the vehicle fade into the distance.

*

It's approaching dusk and Buffy heads home to gear up for patrol. Two goons watch her. One approaches her while the other keeps her in his gun sights.

Goon number One asks, "Buffy Summers?"

Buffy whips around to face him, blinking. Déjà vu."

Goon One, "The Watcher's Council is in trouble and needs your help."

"Color me surprised. Imagine the irony of a group of people of such moral rigidity and superlative decision-making abilities needing help. No. Wait. I think appalled is a better color on me. I can't believe the council has the gall to …" Just then she recognizes him as one of her kidnappers from when she was trapped in Faiths' body. "YOU!"

She raises a fist and a dart appears imbedded in it. "Ow!" Buffy looks at the dart and turns bleary eyes, "well, color me stupi …"

Buffy falls. A van screeches up while Goon One ties her up. He and Goon Two, the shooter, carry her limp body inside the vehicle, and then accelerate away.

Goon One to Goon Two, "It rather worries me that we acquired both Slayers. How safe is the world when a Slayer can't even prevent her own kidnapping?"

Goon Two, "That's why we're here. A mission to make the world a safer place. More Slayers. Slayers of the world rejoice." He says over the body of the Slayer he shot and drugged.

Goon One offers a reality check, eyebrow out of place. "Yeah, well, they're unconscious. But I'm sure they'd jump right on your bandwagon were they awake."

Goon Two's eyes narrow, "You forget who's carrying the gun here," he says only half jokingly.

Goon One, "Yeah, you and every second United States citizen." He throws his hands up mockingly. "Oh, no! Please don't shoot me with your sleepy gun."

Goon Two, "Touché."  
Goon One stares down at Buffy. "One thing puzzles me though. She recognized me. I can't imagine how." He shrugs.

*

Two medical tables strangely equipped with chains and manacles lay side by side, each supporting an unconscious person of the feminine persuasion. They're both hooked up to heart and EEG monitors. Buffy stirs and turns her head, seeing Faith chained beside her.

Doctor T., "Whoa."

Doctor M. rumbles half humorously, "Well, we were warned about Slayer drug tolerance levels."

Doctor T., still flabbergasted that the massive quantities of elephant sedative needed to keep the Slayers down, looks over at Faith's vitals. "I gave them the same dosage. Faiths' still out cold."

Doctor M., "Is that a whine? Faith has only been a Slayer for two years, or maybe it's because she likes to be unconscious. Shoot them both up again just in case."

Doctor T., "They _are _chained to the tables."

Doctor M. frowns at him, "They're Slayers. Even they don't know what they're capable of. In fact, I think we should keep them separate. Shoot them up and we'll arrange for separate quarters."

*

Faith's eyelids twitch as a Slayer's dream holds her deep in thrall.

Faith gazes down at her flowered print dress. It casts a reflection in a thick glass wall in front of her. Through the glass Faith sees Buffy chained to a table. Cardiac equipment and lab-coated people surround Buffy. A medic raises a glass bottle to a hypodermic needle. A few seconds later she plunges the needle in Buffy's squirming vein. Buffy screams and spasms wrack her body. She twists her head and sees Faith looking back at her through the glass.

_Buffy whispers, "Faith, I'm dying." Buffy raises an entreating hand, her wrist choked short by the chain encircling it. "They're killing me."_

_Faith screams, "Buffy!"_

_Faith pounds and pounds on the glass with mortal fists. She kicks it with bare feet. The wall doesn't notice._

_Buffy's body lies still now. Faith hears Buffy's voice right next to her ear. "You can do it, Faith."_

_Serenity sooths Faith's haunted face, "I know." Faith touches a finger to the glass and it parts around her like liquid._

_Faith's eyes open._

_* _

Willow and Tara are reading in bed when the phone rings. Willow leans over and picks it up. "Hello?"

Riley, "Hey willow, let me talk to Buffy"

Willow replies, "I haven't seen her yet. Where'd you guys go this weekend, anyway?" Then she sadly adds, "It's not good for Willow to be Buffyless for extended periods of time."

Riley, after a tense pause, replies "Weekend? Willow, I wasn't supposed to be with Buffy this weekend. You were!"

CHAPTER TWO

Faith's eyes open to a too-white room. She's alone with the monitors. For a moment panic chokes her as she thinks she's never left her coma. Then she notices the manacles and chains. A sight of relief puffs out from seriously afflicted cotton mouth. Coma victims aren't chained to the bed. Plus, coma victims don't _know _they've been in a coma. So the recent past _had_ happened. So she was in trouble, and so was Buffy if Faith's dream was any indication. Faith looks around and makes a sound of frustration, tugging futilely on her chains.

Faith mutters, "There's never a Slayer around when you need one." The memory of Buffy writing, dying flashes in her occipital lobe. Faith, shaking the vision from her head, mumbles, "Whoa. Okay. Buffy needs me. Okay, Faith, think! No. Bad idea. Last resort only."

Faith struggles, bending and twisting, pitting Slayer strength against her bondage. Nothing frees her from the manacles and chains. Finally the metal table begins to bend. Excitement over possibly progress is stymied when Faith ends up with her face kissing her knees, the wobbling metal table bent over her and the chains still intact.

"All right, last resort time."

Faith's eyes stray towards the metal binding her left hand. She measures her thumb's dimension. Faith tells herself, "Animals do it all the time." Her lip trembles involuntarily. "Are you afraid, Faith?" She sneers at herself, and then pulls her left hand within reach of her mouth. The metal bed screams loudly in the near-barren room, sending echoes of foreshadowing rippling in the room. Pain pounds through Faith's head. Faith tries to pump herself up as her mouth hesitates over her hand.

Faith, "Look at yourself. In chains! Are you a slave? Or are you free!? What's it gonna be, Faith? Whose toy are you now? Are you going to roll over and take it? Will you be a slave for a piece of flesh? Are you going to lay here while Buffy dies because you're a coward? How many more people have to die because of _you_, Faith? How many more people die? _No one_!" She vows, "No one else dies!"

Faith lets out a primal, wrenching yell of anguish and bites down ferociously above her wrist. The flesh tears beneath pink stained teeth. Sobbing, Faith yanks her hand against the manacles. It jams. Faith stares in stunned disbelief. The grim reality of her exponentially unappetizing-looking hand with its gushing blood and pink fleshy parts stares back at her. "If at first you don't success, it's even harder to make your self try again."

Faith, "Note to self. If I ever have to do this again, get it right the first time. Going back for thumb seconds isn't pretty."

Ignoring her roiling stomach and swallowing back on her gag reflex, Faith bites down on another inconvenient bit of flesh, muscle and skin. Oh blast! It hurt even more the second time, if that was possible. It took every dredged up bit of willpower to force her teeth to tear away the flesh. The blood flows and Faith jerks her hand free.

Sobbing, screaming in triumph, she rips free the bed's metal crosspiece from below her knees. She jams it into one of the chain links holding down her other hand. Blood soaks her, the table and the floor. Gripping the metal rod is made almost impossible by her slippery, injured hand. Wrenching frantically, Faith uses the side of the table as a lever. She tries several links that don't budge until finally one link slowly, painfully, stretches apart and Faith frees herself from the table. The links that hold drag her other wrist's manacle as faith uses her teeth to tear off a piece of her hospital gown. She wraps her left hand tightly before attacking the chains at her ankles.

Able to use both arms, Faith breaks each link on either side of her ankle manacles. Faith looks with dissatisfaction at the length of chain dangling from her wrist until a delicious thought causes wicked glee to suffuse her face. She whips the chain in the air, making happy circles. "I do so love my toys."

Keys sound at the door and Faith looks up with eager aggression. "Let's play," she whispers, licking the blood from her lips with anticipation.

The door starts to open and Faith rolls out of the table. From a prone position, she whips the chain into the guard's hastily drawn baton. A first to the groin followed by a heel to his abruptly lowered chain finishes him off.

A gleam at the guard's wrist reveals a ring of keys. Faith plucks them from his belt. As she removes his clothes, she mutters, "This must be my lucky day."

*

Giles stirs his tea as he answers Willow and Riley. Pausing, with a querious expression, "No, I haven't seen her. Where did you see her last?"

Willow, with careful control over would-be quivering facial muscles, answers, "At school."

Giles asks, "This morning?"

Willow says, "Er, Saturday afternoon."

The teaspoon stops abruptly. Giles switches his gaze from Willow to Riley. Riley nods in reluctant, same-here agreement.

Giles says, "The Slayer is missing!"

Riley, angry at Giles' phrasing, says "It's not the Slayer I'm worried about!"

Giles says "Buffy would make short work of your average masher. Whatever has happened to her is a result of her identity as the Slayer. Only overwhelming odds or a premeditated attack could take Buffy down."

Willow replies, "Down? Not _down_. Just away somewhere", shifting anxious eyes between the two men. "Right?"

Giles gets to his feet. "I'm going to call the Council"

Willow, confused, asks "Why? I don't really see them helping us."

Giles quietly, responds, 'We need to see if another Slayer has been chosen."

Willow, tears welling out of horrified eyes, "No!"

Giles, "It's better to know. And, if no other girl has been called, then Buffy is alive and she'll need our help." Giles leaves to make the call. Riley moves over and holds the crying Willow.

"I've never been so scared."

Riley replies, "Living on the hellmouth, I find that hard to believe."

Willow says "Bad times, yes. But I always knew Buffy would do everything she could to make it okay. This time _she_…"

Riley replies, "Exactly. Buffy has averted, what… four apocalypses now? Who else has that impressive a resume for underdog wins? I don't see her in trouble. I see whoever took her deeply regretting it."

Willow replies, "But …"

Giles saying goodbye interrupts their train of conversation. Riley gives Willow's shoulder a final, comforting squeeze. He and Willow turn trepidatious attention Giles' way.

Giles cradles the phone, forgotten in his hand. Consternation owes his facial muscles.

Willow, "well?'

Giles, "I've got the strangest feeling that I've been …" pausing, "that someone's not telling …."

Riley asks, "What did they say?"

Giles, "I asked them if a new Slayer has been called."

Riley, "And?"

"They said they had no idea where the Slayer might be."

Riley, frowning, "That answer doesn't make any sense."

Frowning himself, Giles replies, "If I didn't know better, I'd say the Council knows what happened to Buffy."

Willow's brain has a horrible encounter with an idea, twisting dendrites fire over-rapidly. "Oh no!"

Giles and Riley turn curious faces Willow's way.

Willow whispers. Her voice won't go louder. "What is it that the Council wants?"

Giles, "Well, to help protect humanity"

"If that was their true goal, they'd be bashing demon heads themselves. What they really want is to guide the Slayer in protecting humanity. To control her," answers Willow.

Giles, a mild scoffing expression on his face before addressing her statement, "Try though they have, they realize they can't control Buffy."

Willow ventures with dread, "What about her successor?"

Everything in Giles floods up in a boiling denial.

"No. Never! The Council would never. They may occasionally … okay, _frequently_ be pompous, shortsighted windbags, but they'd never kill the Slayer. The Slayer is sacred to them."

Riley, dismissing Giles' ranting, leans toward Willow, "Would this Council kill Buffy?"

Willow nods sadly, giving strange emphasis to the first word of her response. "Several times over!"

Understanding slumps Giles' shoulders as he whispers. "Of course. A little serpent suggests we're not really killing the Slayer, we're cloning her. The world will be safer in the long run." Giles rubs burning eyes. "But who will save the world from the Council? From what they've become?"

Riley replies, "That'd be us. Experienced world savers.:

Willow, tapping her cheek, says, "Something about this doesn't make sense to me, though. The Council kidnapping Buffy! I mean, I don't see how Buffy's death would call a new Slayer. Buffy's death already called her replacement. Wouldn't Faith's death be necessary to call the next Slayer?"

Giles grimly says, "I'll call the prison."

*

After being torn at the sleeves and knees, the felled guard's uniform clothes Faith quite nicely. A sort of retro civil war look, what with the dangling thumb stump bleeding through its blue hospital gown bandage. Faith pads barefoot past two doors in the hallway before a no-admittance sign on a third door stops her.

Faith, "If that's not a screaming invitation to my Eve nature, I don't know what is."

She slowly tests the door knob, not wanting to prematurely alert any dwellers in the room inside. It's locked.

Faith, "Hmph." She explodes a front kick at the door, heel meeting metal. The screeching of the door bursting open sufficiently startles two men guarding an inner door to give Faith time to reach them before they can train weapons her way.

Faith whips the chain out with her right hand at one guard while kicking the other in the face. Two well placed chin blows defeat the hapless guards. Searching their pockets, she liberates two more sets of keys. Faith tests the unmarked inner door the uniformed men had failed to keep inviolate. It opens easily.

The scene is a mirror of Faiths' dream. Glass separates her from Buffy. A flat line appears on the monitor beside her.

Faith can hear muffled activity from the three medical personnel in the room. Two guards watch. "CLEAR!" The doctor barks as he places defibrillators on Buffy's chest. Her body arches moments later and even peaks break the monitor's parallel universe.

Faith whispers, "As timing goes, it's not perfect." She sniffs, "but it'll do."

Faith smashes through the glass. Some shards bite into her flesh, others slicing the 'innocent' bystanders. The two guards swing dart guns toward Faith. She wraps a chain around the gun nearest her. She dodges the aim of the other guard, whose stray dart anesthetizes the wall. With judicious use of chain leverage, Faith whips the gun away from the first guard's hand and into hers. She shoots the guards. One of the doctor's assistants attempts to bring a metal tray down on Faith's head and gets a gun butt in the face for her trouble.

Faith grabs the second dart gun from sleeping hands and shoots the second assistant hiding in the corner. Both guns click empty when aimed at the stunned doctor. Faith shrugs and throws them away.

Faith says, "I'm kinda glad it worked out this way, doc. It's more fun if you're awake."

The doctor says, "Who let you out?" looking for Faiths' backup.

Faith says with menacing grin, "I let me out!"

The doctor says, "Impossible. We've tested those restraints thoroughly. A Slayer can't get out of them."

Faith replies, "Tested by some poor innocent, I'd wager." She stalks him as he backs away. "You thought I'd stay in my kennel like a good little bitch?" Faith raises her pseudo-bandaged hand. Blood drippity drips from the blue cloth.

"You forgot that I was never domesticated!" A feral grin spreads across her face.

The doctor's eyes are glued to the wound wrapped all wrong. The thumb couldn't … the thumb was … horror and astonishment warp his features.

Faith lashes him with the chain and laughs as he falls. "I'm feral." Baring her teeth, "I'm wild." The hand flings the chain repeatedly into his flesh while she chants. "I'm wild and I'm free and there's no taming me!"

The doctor whimpers and cowers and bleeds. Faith stops beating him with the chain and cocks her head. Moving sympathetically, she says "Oh dear! Are you hurt? Here, let me help you." She grabs the paddles and rips away the cloth over his chest. The doctor screams.

Faith yells, "Clear!!!" Faith's hand tightens and the doctor's scream cuts off abruptly as his body spasms. He falls to the floor. "Nighty-night. Sleep tight." She sing-songs as she lets the paddles drop on top of him.

Buffy croaks, "Faith."

Faith whips around and hurries to the bed. She kicks a sedated guard in the groin on the way. "Hold on." Faith breaks the straps holding Buffy to the table. She raises Buffy's arm across her shoulders and helps her up.

As they pass through the second door, Buffy wonders aloud, "Why did you kick that guard?"

Faith, cocking an eyebrow, "Do you really think those guards let our nubile young bodies rest in sedated peace?"

Buffy, looking very upset then, "Why didn't you kick the others too!"

Faith, grinning, "We're in a hurry. Business before pleasure. Mostly."

*

The Scooby gang is assembled, armed for all would-be comers. Xander says to Giles, "I gather by this gathering that you know where Buffy is?" He unconsciously gives his weaponry tender caresses.

Giles replies, "No, but they might have taken her to the Council retreat north of here. It's the only place I know to look."

Xander replies, "Right" with a slight tinge of sarcasm. "And they might have taken her to England."

Anya interjects, "Near here is quicker. And cheaper. Let's rescue her near here."

Xander acknowledges, "Good point. Let's go."

The rescue party marches out. Willow notices Xander's repeated strokes along his club.

Willow says, "Petting your stick relaxes you?"

"What!?" Xander pauses midstroke, looking down at his errant hand. "A nervous habit."

Willow nods knowingly, "Yes. Very calming, I'm sure."

Xander is stumped for a response that doesn't accuse somebody of being a pervert.

Anya pipes up, "Petting your stick is calming? I need to be calm. Let me try."

Xander grins boyishly saying, "Be my guest."

*

Faith and Buffy reach a heavy steel door, unfortunately locked. Faith brings out several sets of keys she's lifted. As Faith tests the keys one after the other, Buffy mentions, "One of the goons who abducted me works for the Council. He kidnapped me when I was in your body … I think the Council had us taken because they've decided to use us to alleviate their Slayer shortage."

Faith, disgusted, "The Council." Menacingly, "You mean kill us to call nice, pliable Slayers." She pauses in her quest, turning.

"Whoa, cowgirl" Buffy exclaims. "Escape first. Revenge for possible multiple deaths later."

Faith resumes trying keys on the locks. "Well, no white-light-at-the-the-end-of-the-tunnel memories here. But if they did kill me, I have just the payback."

"And that is?" Buffy asks.

"The truth. I think the next generation should be clued in on certain Council policies."

Buffy blinks, then, "Oooh, Faith, you evil wench!"

Faith deadpans, "None more evil." Pausing, "Thinking of new girl reaction to info. We Slayers do so hate being manipulated and lied to."

Buffy, "But the Council is soooo good at it."

Faith, "You can be good at something without being bad."

"True words. There's more than one way to save the world, as we know from intimate experience. They'll just have to choose methods more appropriate for world-savers. But until that realization hits them …"

Faith, "I hit them! Enter Faith, paragon of truth and virtue. Well, truth, anyway."

The current key attempt turns and the door opens, displaying the great outdoors. Faith cries, "Got it! Well, B, I rescued _you_. It looks like this time I'm the hero!"

They step out and see several large buildings outside, surrounded by forest.

Buffy says, "Faith you've always been the hero. You just seem to, I don't know, hate yourself too much to see it."

"Just call me self-realizationally challenged." Pausing, "But you know, I figured something out today."

"What?"

Faith replies, "I've always compared myself to you. You were this ideal Slayer. I knew I wasn't like you and finally decided that I must be wrong, somehow evil. But I'm not. I've got a short fuse. I'm uncontrolled, wild, maybe even a little crazy…"

Buffy says, "But not evil", smiling.

"No." Faith acknowledges.

"A little wild, eh?" Buffy puts an arm over Faith's shoulder, "Did I ever tell you about my visit with the First Slayer?"

CHAPTER THREE

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood. But they weren't in the neighborhood; they were bouncing along a graveled road in the middle of the forest.

Xander says, "We're lost, aren't we?"

Giles, shouting over the roar of the jeep, "We're not lost! It's just further than I remembered."

Riley, seeing a turnoff, shouts to the back seat, "Giles, which road do I take?"

Giles, eyes lighting up, says "Ah, now I know where we are! Take the left!"

Xander says, "_Now _you know where we are? So we _were _lost!"

Anya and Willow roll their eyes, seeking one another's commiserating presence. No words are needed because an aggravated, "Men!" is communicated without sound.

A flicker of color ahead catches Anya's eye. "There's two people walking alongside the road up ahead. That's not a good idea out here in the middle of nowhere. Anything could happen to them. Look at them, limping along. Weakness will just bring out a feeding frenzy in any nearby beasties."

"It's them!" Riley jams on the brakes, sending an unprepared Xander over the seat face first into Anya's lap.

Anya pushes him impatiently away, "Not now, Xander!" She looks toward the approaching duo. "They got them both. That's kind of worrisome, don't you think?

Buffy recognizes the figure running towards her.

"Giles!" She opens arms for a hug. Then Riley appears. It's hugs all around.

Giles, "Thank God you're all right."

Willow looks at Faith then at Buffy, "You saved her, didn't you?"

Faith nods. Willow goes to hug her and Faith blinks back tears, turning away. "Not a good time, Red. You'll make me cry."

Willow disagrees, "It's perfect timing. We have a spare minute. You're safe, surrounded by people who'll protect you."

Anya interrupts, "Or we might be just surrounded."

Everyone takes up defensive stances as a small army steps out from the trees. A large man with the skin of liquid ebony approaches.

Giles cautiously greets him, "Mr. Zubu."

Zubu announces without preamble, "I have quit the Council, Mr. Giles. It sickens me, what they have done."

Gesturing to the group of armed citizens, Giles asks, "Then why are you here?"

Zubu says, "We discovered where the Slayers were being held and came to rescue them. But they don't seem to need our help." Curving lips in a smile of wry acknowledgement, "We were following to make sure they weren't recaptured."

Buffy pipes up, "Why didn't you introduce yourselves?

"Would you have taken us at our word? I hope not. We had no desire to get our behinds pummeled." Laughter booms out, and then sobriety falls on his face. "We were blind, Mr. Giles. After millennia of being a force for the good, I couldn't face that corruption had crept into the Council. Do you know what convinced the Council to sanction these murders in the end?"

Giles raises inquiring brows.

"Money!"

Giles responds, "I don't think I want to hear this."

Faith declares, "I do!"

Zubu continues, "When the various donators to our cause heard we were no longer in control of the Slayer … Slayers," he corrects, "they pulled their funding."

Buffy says, "I died for a fundraiser? Well, don't ever say I don't go all out for charity."

Faith, raising her mutilated hand, says, "Hey."

Buffy says, "True. It's easier to die than chew off body parts."

Faith, nodding emphatically, replies, "Damn right!"

Zubu says, "Faith?"

"Yeah?"

Zubu continues, "The Council did you a grave disservice. Their actions helped push you toward some bad choices and evil deeds. We …" gesturing to the army, "are going to make a change in our lives. If you want to make a change in yours, you're welcome to join us. As an equal, fighting with us, not for us."

"Well, I'd like to say I'm tempted. Just to be polite. But I'm not. Tempted. Or polite."

Zubu nods, "Understandable. Perhaps fate will see us fighting together in the future. I wish you well."

Buffy interjects, "Fighting together! You've decided to get up close and personal in the war?"

"Yes. Our predecessors had an excuse for merely guiding the Slayer. But with today's technology we have a chance against the demons ourselves. It's way easier to call ourselves Watchers, to tell ourselves we were keepers of wisdom, then to call ourselves cowards"

Giles warns, "It's not easy. It's very dangerous and you'll need training. But even I have managed to destroy about a score of vampires."

Riley, mumbling and disconcerted, says, "But that's more than me…"

Xander adds, "I've dusted near a dozen."

Riley, with a sick look on his faces, calculates his own kills, feels his shoulders slump in relief. "Thank God."

Xander twists the knife, "With very little training. Of course, I had help," he adds acceding.

Riley gratefully latches on to the subject segue. Looks at the swarm of soon-to-be demon fighters. "That's the key. There's strength in numbers. And I can vouch for the technology bit. I've worked with teams of soldiers bringing demons down.

Zubu nods with enthusiasm. "Perhaps we could arrange a meeting where you could share some effective strategies with us."

Riley responds, "Absolutely. My brains are yours to pick."

Zubu looks dismayed, then confused.

Giles explains. "He'll be glad to give you any helpful information."

Zubu smiles as he absorbs the colloquialism. "I will send a list of others who have terminated acquaintance with the Council. Together, we have contacts and resources that almost equal the Council. You may pick our brains in the future".

Giles gets a perturbed look on his face as images of skull-free brains pulsate in his mind. But his physical eyes shoot Riley a glare. "Well that is extremely good news."

Riley turns to Mr. Zubu, enthusiastic advice on his tongue tip when Willow interrupts. "Not to rain on your military parade here, but we do have walking wounded." She gestures to Faith. "Maybe Faith should get medical attention before gangrene sets in."

All the gentlemen look abashed, mumbling, "of course." "Yes, yes." except for Xander who displays a poker face.

Giles agrees, "Yes, we must go but call me. We'll do tea."

Zubu, "Excellent."

Faith, with a sick look on her face at these social niceties, exclaims, "Bleeding to death looks better and better…"

Buffy forces herself not to nod in agreement.

As the groups separate, Buffy smiles at her beloved friends with joy. "You came to rescue us?"

Riley gestures grandly, "Your chariot awaits, milady".

Buffy begins chuckling when she sees the jeep. "There's only one vehicle, where are we supposed to sit?'

*

Buffy and Willow plait several mini-braids in Xander's hair. One on each side of him on his couch, Xander basks in the feminine attention. Caring not a whit about possible indignities perpetrated upon his person, a goofy grin splits his features.

Xander breaks the moment, "So I _still_ can't believe Faith saved you."

Buffy replies, "I can. She's meant to be a hero. She's always had good in her, but for various reasons rejected it."

Xander, humoring her, replies, "Okay, Buffy. Yes. Believe in She-Vader if you want to. I'm holding my cynicism right here by my side."

Buffy teases, "Like a comfort blankie?"

"Like a light sabre!" Xander dissents.

Willow says to Buffy, "You always believed in her, didn't you? Believed she'd come around?"

Buffy admits, shamefaced, "No. In a way I wanted to believe in her. I see myself in her, what I might have become without you guys."

Willow and Xander shout out multiple comforting protests.

"My belief in her faltered …" Grimacing, "Okay, shattered, into oblivion. But when there was no one else there for me, when I needed her most, I've always had Faith to save me."

Willow asks, "Where is Faith?"

Buffy, "I don't know. She took off from the hospital before I could offer her a meal, a bed or anything."

*

Faith walks up to the receptionist's desk in the jail. "I'm baaaack."

The receptionist rings frantically for the warden.

Warden scoffs upon seeing her, "Decided that escaping wasn't everything you hoped?"

Faith replies, "Escape? I was kidnapped, you dumb ass! I had so much fun in the loving embrace of my kidnappers that I felt guilty and came back." She forces herself to quit while only a little behind.

Warden leads her away, "Why did you come back?"

Faith's rage is boiling within, wanting very badly to hit and hit and hit til this idiot bleeds red. "I don't _feel_ very rehabilitated.

*

In the interior of a barren room, two men sit at a table with cards in hand.

Edgar announces, "They escaped."

Acre shrugs, "Ah well, it saves us the freeing of them."

Edgar questions, "Well, did we get what we wanted from them?"

Acre quotes, "You can't always get what you want."

Edgar shares a grin with his fellow ' Stones fan, "But sometimes…."

Acre lays down his cards. Full house.

29


End file.
